


An Itch In His Skin

by BigGhost



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn's an ass, M/M, Prompto Whump, Suicide Attempt, it's written with ot4 in mind but u can read it without that, just cuz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigGhost/pseuds/BigGhost
Summary: “Hey, buddy, it’s me…  Okay?  It’s me, Prompto,” he said quietly.  Prompto cried harder, and his throat tightened.  Prompto felt his heart hammering in his chest.  “You’re stronger than him, Prompto.  You’re not a thing.”  Noctis’ voice broke just slightly on the last word.He clenched his jaw tightly and ground his teeth, trying to making something, anything besides his giant tears obey him.  He tried to force his voice to tell Noctis to run.  Scream to Iggy for help.  Beg Gladio to stop him.“Gggghhhh…” was what he could manage.





	An Itch In His Skin

At first, Prompto was able to ignore the ringing in his ear.  It was quiet, more annoying than anything, and didn't hurt.  It was only noticeable when everything else was quiet.

The itch under his skin was harder to ignore.  He scratched at it constantly, sometimes absently.  Ignis had had to pry his hands away from him when his gentle itching had turned into deep, bloody digging in his sleep.

Hand twitches were odd, and at first harmless; that was, until it had nearly shot Gladio in the leg.  Prompto had stared in horror at the hole in the ground that was dangerously close to Gladio’s leg, shaking and petrified.  Gladio stormed over to give him the what-for, but Ignis intercepted while Noctis took him aside.  Gladio’s yelling shook his nerves worse, and Noctis attempted at comfort and trying to figure out what happened.  Prompto could only shake his head in utter confusion.  He truly did not know; it was as though his hand had a mind of its own, and fired a shot at a daemon that was not there.

Gladio later apologized (probably at Ignis’ behest), and Prompto returned it.  Thankfully, no one had been hurt in the slip.  That didn’t make Prompto feel any better about it, though.

Then came the nightmares: screaming in terror in the middle of the night, and Ignis struggling to coax him back to sleep.  They were always the same.  Prompto would lose control of himself, go on a rampage, and kill his friends.  It felt so real: the blood on his fingers and the sound of his gun.

He felt such relief when they had lessened once they arrived in Altissia.  It had nearly stopped, in fact.  He passed it off as nerves, and even Ignis noted the improvement of his health.  He felt better.  Safer.   
Then he woke up in Zegnautus, in that Six forsaken little jail cell, and waited for Ramuh knows how long for someone,  _ anyone  _ to let him out.

They did.  By the gods they did, and they were together again.

All they had to do was leave.

All they had to fucking do was leave.

They made it to a large hangar when Prompto heard the ringing again.  He hissed as it grew louder, and louder still, until it was a roar in his ears like his own brain was being sawed in half.  It hurt, it hurt so much that his knees buckled, and he held his head between his hands as he cried out in agony.

He wasn’t sure who it was that came to his side, but he felt hands on him, heard the muffled voices around him.  He scratched at his head, pressed the heels of his hands into his temples, crouched until his head touched the ground between his knees.

Was he dying?

He hoped that whatever was killing him would get it over with, then.

Just as it felt like his skin was on fire, and his skull was splitting open, it stopped.  It stopped so suddenly, he was unsure it had even happened in the first place.  It was silent around him as his friends waited for his response.  He had stopped screaming, and his throat hurt from it.  What the hell was that?

He stood slowly, shakily even as he distantly heard the concern from his friends, asking if he was okay.  He wanted to say he was okay, and he wanted to ask Ignis if they could find a place to rest.  He just wanted to sleep.  But he couldn’t get the words out.  As though in slow motion, he felt his shaking hands reach out in front of him, then the weight of his gun in his hand.  He stared at it in horror as his body aimed it at Noctis’ face.

_ Bang _ !

Prompto felt his heart fall to the ground at the sound, but his stomach lurched up as he felt himself be pushed.  He lay flat on the ground, staring up at the high ceiling for but a moment before he was upright again.  How had he gotten up?  How the hell had he gotten up without using his arms?  He opened his mouth to try to speak, to say something, anything at all, but all that came out were a few broken noises.

He took deadly aim again, at Ignis this time, and shot.

The honeycomb pattern of Noctis’ magic barrier bloomed under the bullet’s pressure, then shattered down like glass before disappearing.  No, no no no no!  Stop shooting!  He felt his free hand twitch of his own will, aha, perfect!  Prompto gripped his other arm, trying to lower the gun to the ground.  It was like trying to move a wall, or arm wrestling with Gladio.

He whimpered weakly as he tried, and yelped when his once controlled hand shot out to the side.  The weight of a second gun in his hand made fury and terror rise in his belly.  What was happening?  Why was he doing this?  Was it a dream again?  He squeezed his eyes shut, and mentally begged Ignis, Noctis, Gladio, hell, a  _ daemon  _ to wake him up again!  Someone wake him up!

“What the hell are you doing, Prompto?!” Gladio’s guttural voice called.  That was a good question, and if anyone had the answer, Prompto would welcome it.

“Actually, he’s able to do nothing!” the sing-songy voice of Ardyn chimed through the hangar, echoing and bouncing.

Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer.

“Poor dear, unable to fight his programming.  He told you, yes?  He’s one of those MTs.  The ‘hunks of metal’ that you lot are so fond of killing.  Not so easy when they wear this face, is it?”  He chuckled.  The bastard.

Prompto shook where he was able.  He watched, helpless inside his own body, as Gladio carefully put himself in front of Noctis and Ignis, one hand behind him towards them, and the other with his palm to him.  A surrender?  A guard?  He felt his eyes burn.  Someone wake him up…

He sprinted forward as his electric saw materialized in his hands in place of his guns.  No, shut it off, fuck!  Gladio’s sword sparked to life just in time for him to block the vicious saw blade.  Its whirring was deafening, and the sparks against Gladio’s sword burned on Prompto’s skin; but he did not move.  He only pushed it harder.  Gladio could easily overcome him, why was he not pushing him away?

“Amazing, isn’t it?  The untapped potential he has, just beneath the surface, held back by the limitations of the human body.”  It was almost chilling how enthused Ardyn sounded, low like the rumble of a prowling predator.

Was he stronger now?  Like the MTs that would ambush them on the roads at night?  His body was truly not his own.

Gladio threw him back finally, glaring at him as though it would snap him out of this trance.  His body’s trance.  “C’mon, Prompto, get it together!”

Prompto wanted to yell back at him, curse him and tell him he was trying.  Instead, he dematerialized his saw, and pulls out something unfamiliar in his hands.  A lance…?

Iggy’s lance.

They had never summoned each other’s weapons before.  It was almost an unspoken rule not to.  If he were honest, Prompto had been unaware he was even  _ able  _ to summon a weapon that wasn’t his own.  Did that mean he was able to take away Noctis’ weapons too?  Could they take his?  Would it even matter?

“Prompto,” Ignis said carefully.

Prompto took a stance with it, movement robotic and obviously not his own.  Ignis had his daggers out now, ready to put up a fight.  Good.  If they could take him down, he couldn’t get to Noctis.  He couldn’t get to Noctis.   _ He could not get to Noctis. _

“My lamb, be a dear and dispose of them quickly?” Ardyn chimed.  Prompto’s body obeyed without question.

The clank and force of weapons hitting each other rang loudly in his ears.  He saw the hesitation in Ignis and Gladio’s movements, almost unsure if they wanted to fight him.   _ No _ , he wanted to say,  _ fight me!  Keep me away! _

Still, they hesitated.  It hurt.  Six, it hurt terribly.  He felt the bruises creeping up his sides where Gladio would throw him down, licking at his arms where Ignis would use the butt of his daggers to jab at his joints.  The stickiness of blood where his body scraped the ground, and where the Shield and Hand had nearly sliced his stomach open, was cold against his skin.

But it wasn’t enough.

“It wasn’t easy, you know.  He’s not modified like most MTs; as far as anyone else is concerned, he’s human,” Ardyn continued.  Prompto wanted so badly to rip his tongue out.  “But deep down, it’s still there: the programming deep inside of him that makes him no different than any other soldier in this facility.”

A pause.

“Getting to it was like working through a labyrinth.  But once you uncover what lies inside…”  He laughed.  The sick fuck laughed as Prompto held Iggy down, trying to kill him with his own knife, before Gladio kicked him off roughly.  “It’s like finding the network to the consciousness itself.”

Prompto’s body scrambled to stand upright again, and tackled Ignis to the ground like an animal before grabbing him by the hair, and smacking it down hard against the cement.  Inside, Prompto screamed.  His tears still flowed freely, his face contorted in the struggle between crying and trying to keep a cold MT’s facade.

The sound that Ignis’ head made against the ground was sickening, and Prompto feared for a moment that he’d really killed him.  The only sign that he hadn’t was the slow, disoriented movements Ignis made.

“Prompto, don’t make me do this!” Gladio yelled as he grabbed Prompto by his own hair, and dragged him off of Ignis.  He wrestled with him, straddling him and getting a tight hold on his arms.  He pushed Prompto’s wrists to the ground, the struggle against his MT-like strength evident as Prompto thrashed around.  There was a roaring scream in his ears.  Was it him?  Of all the things to have in his control, the primal shriek of a terrified child was it?

Ardyn had a cruel sense of humor.

“You’re stronger than him!” Gladio screamed over him.  “Fight him!”

Prompto couldn’t get his mouth to form the words, it felt like there was a gag on his tongue.  He sobbed as he felt his body fighting back.  Get out of the way, Gladio!  Get out of the way!

Prompto slipped his legs from under Gladio, and folded himself in half, bringing his knees almost to his cheeks as he kicked Gladio in the jaw.  The larger man flew backwards, and landed on his back, cradling his face where blood was drawing.

Prompto rolled on his shoulder into an upright position again.  He observed Ignis still trying to collect himself, and Gladio spitting out blood on the ground.

He spotted Noctis watching them in horror a couple paces away.  The prince’s eyes flicked between his two retainers, then to Prompto.  The look in his eyes was a mix of horror and concern.

No!  Get up!  Someone has to stop him!  He was going to kill Noctis!  He was going to kill Noctis...

Prompto felt the weight of his gun in his hand again.  It had never felt so heavy before.  It hurt his fingers.  His hand was tight, shaking with tension and knuckles white.  Everything in his head told him to put the gun down, put it down, that’s Noctis there, not a daemon, put it down!

“Prompto,” Noctis almost whispered.  Prompto heard his own broken, whimpering voice loudly echoing between them.

Noctis stood with his stance low and hands out in surrender.  He had no weapons.   _ Idiot!  Get your sword!  _ Prompto’s mind screamed.  He crept towards Prompto like he was trying to calm a wild animal; in this case, that was probably the best way to look at it.

“Hey, buddy, it’s me…  Okay?  It’s me, Prompto,” he said quietly.  Prompto cried harder, and his throat tightened.  Prompto felt his heart hammering in his chest.  “You’re stronger than him, Prompto.  You’re not a thing.”  Noctis’ voice broke just slightly on the last word.

He clenched his jaw tightly and ground his teeth, trying to making something, anything besides his giant tears obey him.  He tried to force his voice to tell Noctis to run.  Scream to Iggy for help.  Beg Gladio to stop him.

“Gggghhhh…” was what he could manage.

Prompto felt the familiar clench of his arm just before he prepared to shoot.  Noctis heard the preparing click of the trigger, and Prompto thanked his reflexes that he threw up a barrier just in time for the bullet.  Noctis seemed shaken, but not deterred.

“I know you would never hurt me,” he said, and Prompto felt the confidence wrapped in it.  He was right; Prompto would never hurt Noctis, not on purpose.  It was his duty to protect him, just like it was Ignis’ and Gladio’s.  He took pride in it.

And now Ardyn was stomping all over it.

“N-Noct,” he ground out.  Noctis perked up at the sound.  Prompto forced every part of him to obey, every single muscle in his body to follow him, break free of whatever mind fuck Ardyn was trying to pull.  It wouldn’t work.  Couldn’t work.

He’d rather die.

Prompto felt the itch of his body taking control again, preparing to shoot at Noctis’ head.  The prince stood steadfast, though, fearlessly staring down the barrel of Prompto’s gun.  “I won’t leave you,” he said firmly.   _ Ever at your side. _

Prompto felt the control Ardyn had over his body waver as a scream ripped itself out of his throat, clawing out of him like a roar.  It felt like he was breaking out of a stone cast.  He pressed the gun against his head, fury fuming under his skin, and—

“Prompto!”   
  
_ Bang _ !

 

. . .

 

. . .

 

He wasn’ t dead…?

He felt his arm stretched up to the sky, gun pointing straight up.

His body felt lighter.  He felt his trigger finger twitch just a bit, then all of his fingers.  His shaking hand relaxed, and the gun fell to the floor before disappearing into Noctis’ armiger.  Prompto let out a loud breath of relief, panting like he had run for miles, and let out a low whimper as his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.

He threw his body to the side and vomited.

He coughed and dry heaved through his cries, morphing from sobs of horror to relief.  “Prompto!” a voice called, but he was unsure who.  His tears fell off his nose and jaw, and mixed with the puddle of bile below him.  He felt the ache in his stomach from the screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, and where Ignis had cut him across the belly.

He felt hands on him, and fear told him to get away.  He fought, however weakly, against those hands, throwing his arms up to shield his head in case either Ignis or Gladio decided to get some revenge.

He was surprised when he felt them wrap around him tightly.  Ignis settled beside him, holding his upper body closely on his lap and gently rocking them as he pressed his nose to his hair.  “It’s okay, it’s okay, Prompto.  We’re here, it’s okay,” he mumbled again and again.  Prompto gripped his arms tightly, and Ignis tightened the hug just enough.

Gladio’s giant hand settled on his thigh while the other arm wrapped around Ignis’ shoulders, as though he were caging them in with his body.  “You all there, Prom?”

The hand that wasn’t gripping Ignis’ arm grabbed Gladio’s hand on his leg.  Noctis nestled himself in where he fit next to Ignis and Prompto, and leaned his head against Ignis’ arm where Prompto’s head peaked out from his embrace.  He pet Prompto’s hair, his fingers massaging his head where they sat.  Prompto melted a little under the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, muffled by Ignis’ sleeve.  He relished in the warmth that surrounded him, pushing the memories of losing himself as far back as he could.  “I’m sorry.”

He never heard the ringing again.

**Author's Note:**

> bad end: prompto gets his arms chopped off ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ also cue ravus coming in and they have to fight him too lmao
> 
> this was an au we thought of in our discord, basically just some hurting prompto just because~
> 
> find me on tumblr as sugarbath! <3


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